


Bad Hair Day

by Capsicle2013



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Aunt Natasha Romanov, Domestic Fluff, Established Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Married Couple, Mild Language, Not Canon Compliant, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Parenthood, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Steve and Tony Are Trying Though, Superfamily (Marvel), Superhusbands (Marvel), Two Fathers, parenting is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capsicle2013/pseuds/Capsicle2013
Summary: Tony and Steve try to do Morgan's hair. They fail miserably.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 151





	Bad Hair Day

**Author's Note:**

> You guys this is my attempt at a fluffy Stony/ Superfamily story! I got this idea the other day and decided to write it just to help balance out all the angst I've been putting out. I hope you all enjoy Steve and Tony struggling to be dads lol

Having a child was a life-changing experience, but having a daughter was another experience all on its own. They had no clue how to be parents, especially when starting a family was something they never considered. They were Avengers and in their job, a baby just didn’t fit in the equation.

That all changed and they welcomed their baby girl, Morgan. She was everything they could have hoped for and more; she was their pride and joy; their entire world.

But nothing could have prepared them for raising a daughter. Before Morgan was born and before they learned they were expecting a baby girl, Tony had been hoping for a boy. He knew how boys worked, having been one himself at one point in his life. Boys could be difficult but their actions made sense. Steve on some level agreed, but if he was being honest, he didn’t care as long as their baby was healthy.

Then Morgan was born and everything changed. There was no disappointment or regrets; she was perfect in every way. She mostly resembled Tony with her dark hair and dark eyes to match, but there were bits of Steve in her as well. Where else did her stubborn attitude come from?

Like all new parents they struggled. The early morning feedings and lack of sleep were the hardest, but it had all been worth it. Morgan was the most important thing in their lives.

It got easier as she grew up. Whatever fears and doubts they had about raising a daughter began to diminish. They knew how to comfort her when she was scared or angry; they knew what made her laugh and smile. It became second nature.

But despite all of the things they got right, there was always going to be something to screw up on. They had just anticipated it would be later in Morgan’s life.

It’s a quiet afternoon in the Stark-Rogers residence, something that rarely takes place. Usually their private quarters were filled with some type of noise, whether that be from the sounds of Morgan playing or Tony working on a new project.

The silence is nice and for a change, Steve and Tony are able to enjoy their afternoon. For once they’re not needed to save the world. Morgan is quietly playing in her room, while Tony works on his Starkpad and Steve sketches.

“You know what tomorrow is, don’t you?” Steve asks, not even looking up from his sketchbook. Tony hums in response. One look his way has Steve rolling his eyes. “Tony, did you hear me?”

“Hmm?” Tony gives up on the schematics he’s working on, head snapping up at the sound of his husband’s annoyed tone. “Wait, did you ask about dinner because you know I can’t cook.”

Steve sighs in annoyance. “Tomorrow? Ring any bells?”

“Oh picture day! Yeah of course I remember. How could I forget?”

“Just checking. You almost missed her birth.”

“I said I was sorry!” Tony cries out. Steve can’t help but chuckle at the outburst. Although it had been five years since that day and all has been forgiven, Steve still liked to give his husband a hard time.

“I know,” Steve smiles and he leans over to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “I still love you.”

“I won’t screw up again,” Tony promises. They both know it’s a promise that can’t be kept. Screwing up was going to happen sooner or later.

“Daddy? Papa?” Comes the soft voice of their daughter. Morgan pokes her head out from the hall, almost as if she’s afraid to approach. Tony and Steve share a look.

“Come here, Maguna.” Tony waves Morgan over, smiling when she runs into the room and plops into Tony’s lap. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tony asks, gently pushing back a strand of dark hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“I want to look good for school tomorrow,” Morgan says, her words only confusing her parents even more. They had spent a majority of the weekend getting everything prepared for her first picture day. Now they’re starting to wonder what they did wrong.

“What do you mean?” Steve is frowning now. He remembers Morgan already picking out her outfit for tomorrow. “Honey, didn’t you pick out something?”

“You picked the suit I made you, right?” Tony asks, getting a glare from his husband. “What?”

“She is not wearing the suit,” Steve warns, then his voice is taking on a much softer tone when he speaks to his daughter. “Morgan, what’s going on?”

“I just want to look good. I really liked the way Auntie Nat did my hair and I want…” Morgan pauses, glancing down at her lap and wringing her small fingers together in a nervous fashion. She mutters something both Steve and Tony don’t understand.

“What? Little Miss, say that again,” Tony tells her and Morgan lets out a small sigh.

“I want you to...do my hair…” Morgan glances up, brown eyes darting back and forth between her parents, nervously waiting for their response.

Steve clears his throat and speaks first, “Oh...um yeah. Yeah, honey we can...do that. Tony?” Steve turns to his husband for back up, nudging him in the knee with his own when Tony refuses to catch on.

“Yeah! But if Auntie Nat did such a good job on it last time maybe she can-” Tony is cut off when Steve shakes his head, clearly not impressed with the answer. “I mean, yeah we can do that.”

“Really!” Morgan’s face lights up and she wraps her arms around Tony’s neck. “Thank you, Daddy!” She pulls away to press a big kiss to Tony’s cheek.

Tony smiles. “No problem. I think Papa needs some love too.”

Morgan agrees and she jumps out of Tony’s lap, rushing into Steve’s open arms and planting a kiss similar to the one Tony received on his cheek. “Thank you, Papa!”

She runs back to her room with a huge smile on her face. Steve cranes his neck, watching as she disappears down the hall, and when he hears her bedroom door close, he turns toward his husband, a small frown showing up in his features.

“What?” Tony questions. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“We can’t do her hair!” Steve hisses.

“Why not? We just told her we would.”

“Do you know how to do hair? Because I don’t!”

“I think you’re overreacting. It’s just hair. We’ve done it before.” Tony shrugs casually and leans back in his seat.

“Yeah once! Tony, there’s a reason Nat does the hair thing,” Steve reminds him.

“Okay well maybe it’s time we do it. I mean, we’re Morgan’s parents. How hard can it be?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “Maybe you’re right.”

* * *

Turns out, doing their daughter’s hair is much harder than they anticipated.

With picture day literally hours away, there is no time to be wasted, and the once peaceful afternoon shifts into one of utter chaos. Maybe that was too dramatic, but that calmness that was once surrounding their home disappeared the moment they sat Morgan down in the bathroom and attempted to do her hair.

She had been so excited to have her daddies do her hair. Ever since Steve failed miserably when Morgan was two, it was always Natasha doing the styling. That was going to change, though. At least, that’s what everyone thought.

“Ow, Papa that hurts!” Morgan cries, squirming in the chair that had been set up for her to sit in. Steve sighs harshly, cursing under his breath when the brush he was using refuses to untangle from his daughter’s hair.

“Sorry, sweetie. It’s..a..little...stuck…” Steve says while trying to pull the brush free. He tugs a little too hard and Morgan cries out again.

A chuckle on his left reaches Steve’s ears and he turns toward the bathroom entrance, finding a very amused Tony lingering in the doorway. “Need help?” Tony asks, another chuckle escaping him when Steve glares.

“No,” Steve replies firmly, and he turns back to the task at hand. “It’s fine. Her hair is just super thick. Dammit, Tony this is your fault!”

“Are you referring to the idea or the hair? I did have thick hair as a kid.”

Steve sends another glare his husband’s way. “Shut up. Can you…” He gestures at the mess he’s made of their daughter’s hair, a sigh of frustration escaping him.

Not needing to be asked twice, Tony steps into the bathroom and comes closer to inspect the damage. “Yikes,” he winces at the mess Steve had managed to make in less than five minutes. “How the hell did you get it stuck?”

“It’s stuck!” Morgan cries, turning her head to try and see for herself.

“No, no!” Steve assures. “It’s just a little...Tony, do something,” he hisses.

Tony smirks. He goes in as gently as he can; his goal is to get the brush untangled from Morgan’s hair without hurting her or ripping any out in the process. “Damn,” he says through gritted teeth. “I did not know your hair was this thick.”

Morgan emits a whimper when her head is repeatedly tugged in every direction. “Ow, Daddy!”

“Sorry,” Tony apologizes. “Blame your Papa.”

Steve rolls his eyes. It’s tempting to fire back with a snarky reply, but Steve bites his tongue. He’s too focused on his daughter and the guilt of putting her in this situation.

“Almost got it,” Tony announces after a few more minutes of fighting with the brush. There’s a loud rip when Tony pulls a little too hard, and Steve’s eyes are widening at the sound. Tony, too absorbed in his victory, fails to notice that he had taken some of Morgan’s hair out along with the brush. “Aha! Got you!” Tony holds the brush up proudly, then he’s noticing the dark wad of hair attached to the brush. “Shit!”

“What!” Morgan’s eyes go wide and she scrambles to turn in her seat. Steve quickly steps in, rushing toward her and spinning her back around.

“It’s nothing, sweetie. Daddy is just...that’s just his favorite word,” Steve tries to assure, knowing that he’s failing miserably. Their daughter was no idiot.

“Is it gone?” Morgan asks, using one hand to reach behind her to feel for the brush. A small smile forms over her face in relief when she realizes it’s no longer stuck to her head. “Thank you, Daddy! You fixed Papa’s mess!”

“Sure did, Maguna,” Tony tells her, shrugging when Steve narrows his eyes at him and gestures angrily at the brush. “Let me try and comb it now okay? I’ll be gentle.”

And by gentle, Tony means cautious as hell. He goes as slow as he possibly can, praying each time he brushes through the dark strands that there’s not another repeat. It goes well, and soon Morgan’s hair is no longer resembling a rat’s nest.

“There! All done!” Tony leans down and rests his chin on his daughter’s shoulders, watching her reflection in the mirror. “Looks good right?”

Morgan frowns and their eyes meet in the mirror. “You didn’t do anything. It looks the same.”

“Actually, it looks better. You should have seen what your Papa-”

“Okay,” Steve intervenes, growing tired of the constant reminder of his screw up. “But Tony, she wanted it…” Steve pauses, turning toward his daughter. “Morgan, what did you want?”

“A French braid. Like Auntie Nat does sometimes.”

“What the fu-I mean what is French braid?” Tony asks, the question more so directed at his husband.

“It’s a really pretty braid. Auntie Nat did it for me one time,” Morgan smiles. She reaches up to play with her hair, oblivious to the confused looks her parents are sharing behind her.

“I think we better get Nat-” Steve begins to suggest, but Tony is quickly shutting that idea down.

“No way. We can do this French braid thing. Now hand me the brush.”

Steve sighs and grabs the brush, placing it in Tony’s hand. “Please don’t mess up,” he mutters to himself.

Tony of course messes up in the first couple of minutes. Luckily the brush didn’t get stuck again, but the hair ties were becoming an issue. Morgan cries out whenever Tony ties it too tight or when it gets tangled in a few strands of her hair. With a huff, Tony steps back.

“You give up?” Steve asks from his spot on the edge of the tub.

“Nope! I just need something,” Tony explains, then he’s rushing out of the room.

“Don’t get the suit!” Steve calls out, then he’s groaning and burying his face in his hands.

“Papa?” Morgan’s scared voice captures Steve’s attention and he’s snapping his head up in her direction. “Daddy isn’t going to be Iron Man when he does my hair, right?”

“God I hope not.”

Tony returns a few minutes later, thankfully not dressed in the familiar red and gold suit. “Needed my tablet.” He holds it up for a second before propping it up on the sink and typing something on the screen.

“What are you doing?” Steve grows curious when another voice fills the room and he comes over to investigate. The video Tony has playing shows a girl with a bubbly personality demonstrating how a French braid is done. “Does this work?” Steve asks, gesturing toward the screen.

“It’s supposed to. People watch tutorials all the time,” Tony answers, then he’s turning his attention back to the video. He watches the full thing, then he’s shutting it off, feeling confident that he can pull off the same look the woman demonstrated.

“That’s it?” Steve asks when Tony immediately jumps back in at styling Morgan’s hair. “You’re not going to watch it again or keep it playing and following the steps?”

“Honey, I got it. I’m a genius, remember? I only need to watch it once.”

Tony could not have been more wrong. He had felt his confidence surging within when he first started working on Morgan’s hair, but little by little it was starting to diminish, leaving him feeling that he was doing a worse job than Steve.

Separating the strands had been the easy part, but when it came to twisting and forming those strands into the pretty braid shown on the video, that’s when Tony lost it.

“What the hell?” He grumbles to himself, gritting his teeth in frustration when he fails to get Morgan’s hair just the way she wants. Morgan whimpers when he tugs too hard and he quickly apologizes.

“Daddy, maybe we can call Auntie Nat,” Morgan is starting to sound like Steve. Tony doesn’t know how many times Steve had suggested the same idea during the past ten minutes.

“Nope. Daddy’s got this, sweetheart,” Tony assures. “Give me another thing,” he gestures toward the sink.

“Another thing?” Steve questions, brows drawing together in confusion. “What thing?” he asks, when he fails to understand what his husband is referring to.

“The thing! The-the little tie things!”

“A _hair tie_!”

“Yes!”

“Daddy…”

“I got it,” Tony promises. He takes the little pink hair tie Steve offers and carefully ties together the strands of hair. “I think it’s working.”

“You think?” Steve is skeptical, craning his neck to get a better view of what his husband has been doing for the past thirty minutes. He frowns at the results. He doesn’t remember that from the video. “Tony, are you sure that’s right?”

“Yeah,” Tony sounds so sure of himself. He takes a step back to examine his work, humming as he takes in the final result. “Looks good to me.”

Steve frowns. “I thought she wanted a long braid. You have…” Steve counts silently to himself. “Three...four braids? And this one isn’t even. It’s-”

“Do you want to try?” Tony snaps. “Go ahead, Steve try! See how difficult it really is!”

“Maybe Auntie Nat-”

“No!” Steve and Tony both say simultaneously.

“Move,” Steve growls, nudging Tony out of the way. “I’ll do it.”

* * *

The last thing Natasha expected was to hear her doorbell ring. It wasn’t terribly late, but no one rarely came to her door in the middle of the night, unless it was of course an emergency. She frowns as she makes her way toward the door, the confused expression only growing when she opens the door and reveals her two best friends and niece.

“What is going on?” Natasha asks, then she notices the state her niece is in. “Oh my God what did you do to her hair!”

Morgan whimpers, bottom lip jutting out and trembling and tears in her dark eyes. The hair atop her head is a complete disaster, twisted in some areas and tangled in others, colorful plastic ties decorating each strand of the dark locks.

“We tried,” Steve is the first to explain. Tony holds up the brush that they had been using, and Natasha’s eyes widen at the large hairball the brush had collected.

“Tried what exactly? What is this!” Natasha reaches outs and examines one of the failed braids. “Do you hate your child?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Tony exclaims. “Can you just help us out? We obviously suck at this hair thing.”

“Obviously,” Natasha says, then she’s directing her attention to Morgan. “Hey, sweetie, I’ll fix it okay? Go into the bathroom and I’ll be right there.”

Morgan sniffs and nods her head, then she’s disappearing down the hall toward the familiar bathroom.

“I swear we tried,” Steve tries to explain when Natasha is sending them another disapproving look. “It’s just...we’re…” He looks at his husband for help.

“We’re guys and we’re stupid. Please help us before our daughter really does hate us and wants to move in with you,” Tony says.

A smile breaks across Natasha’s face. “She doesn’t hate you. Though after tonight, she might want to live with me. I’ll convince her that she’s better off with you two morons.”

They’re invited in and they make themselves comfortable on the sofa while Natasha attends to Morgan’s hair down the hall.

“I think we think we’re horrible parents,” Steve says.

Tony hums in agreement. “I know we’re not perfect, but damn I thought we would get this right. This can’t be the worst thing we’ve ever done, has it?”

“I don’t know.” Steve tries to think back to anything they’ve ever done that could top this. “I don’t think so. Just wait, though. Something worse will come along.”

“Jesus,” Tony groans and he leans forward, burying his face in his hands. “Wait till she’s a teenager.”

Just that thought alone makes Steve sick to his stomach. “Oh God and boys. And other things I really don’t understand.”

“You’re dealing with that one!” Tony points a finger in Steve’s direction.

“I don’t want to think about it. She’s still our baby.”

“She’ll always be our baby.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees.

A few minutes pass before Natasha and Morgan are entering the room. Both Steve and Tony jump to their feet when their daughter approaches them. She no longer has tears running down her face, and instead she’s wearing a bright smile.

“Look! Auntie Nat fixed your mess!” Morgan spins around to show off her perfect braid.

“How the hell did you do that?” Steve asks and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Seriously, it’s not rocket science.”

“You’re right,” Tony says. “Rocket science is much easier to understand.”

“You look beautiful,” Steve smiles down at his daughter. Morgan throws her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

“I know you tried,” Morgan stares up at him. “I still love you.”

“Hey. What about me?” Tony fakes being hurt and Morgan giggles, rushing toward him to give him a hug. Tony picks her up and she hugs him tightly.

“I love you 3000!”

“Hear that?” Tony says. “She loves me more than all of you.”

“Go home,” Natasha teases and she walks them toward the door. “You know you can always ask me for help, right? I don’t mind doing her hair. It’s fun.”

“We know,” Steve says. “We just wanted to give it a try.”

“Well, come by tomorrow and I can show you boys how it’s done.”

Natasha opens the door and Steve steps out first, but Tony lingers in the doorway. “Oh! Since we’re on the topic of help, can you help us with another issue?” He asks.

“What is it?” Natasha raises a questioning brow.

“We’ll let you know in seven years.”


End file.
